


Wanton

by kinoface



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon
Genre: Bondage, F/F, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-29
Updated: 2006-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patience and thoroughness have always been Taiki's strong suits; Yaten, on the other hand...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanton

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the sm_monthly comm over on LJ during their Starlights month. The daily theme was "kinky." How could I pass that one up? <3

It's in the middle of tying the last knot when you decide that this is the most breathtaking you've ever seen her. It's everything from her white, slitted skirt, hiked up around her thighs, to her green shirt, halfway unbuttoned with the lacy accents of her gray bra peeking through, the matching panties lost somewhere behind you, from her silky silver hair and her smoky eye-shadow to her white heels and green-polished nails. You step back from the knot and look her over, and it's the blush that rises to her cheeks as she squirms under your gaze. You lick your lips, place one hand over her smooth, exposed thigh, and it's everything about her, not just the clothes or the make-up, but her body, the curve of her back, the line of her shoulders straining against the rope that pulls her arms behind her. Your eyes follow the rope from her thin wrists to the bedframe and to where it twists around her ankles, and you let your eyes wander further up along her strong calves, her bent knees, her spread legs and glistening thighs. It's her body and her demeanor and her wet red lips and her half-lidded eyes, and most of all it's her stubborn hard-headedness and her vulnerability and her wanton, desperate face.

Most of all it's that she's yours, and only yours, and yours to keep.

Your hands follow the same trail as your eyes, trying to memorize every inch of her with your fingertips, studying every hard, taut muscle and every sleek curve, from her curling toes to her parted lips until she's panting and desperate and writhing against you in a futile attempt to guide your hands.

You undo the last buttons of her shirt and push it off her shoulders and down her arms until it stops at the rope circling her wrists, and then you study her a third time, your mouth continuing the research begun by your eyes and hands. You start at her clavicle and lick your way across her shoulder blades and down the exquisite bumps of her spine. Some places are difficult to reach, the way she's kneeling on the bed, but you'll twist your body and slither on your stomach if it means getting what you want, and you leave nothing unexplored. Your lips observe her legs and her thighs; your tongue studies her stomach and breasts; your teeth make notes on her throat and mouth.

You leave only one part of her body un-researched, and she whimpers and pulls on the ropes and pushes against you, her cheeks slick with frustrated tears that you lick away. It's a promise: _Soon_.

Soon enough, you'll show her the fruits of your research, and it'll be a lesson she won't forget. You'll make her moan before the night is through, and in the morning she'll go back to being her usual, headstrong self. You'll always have your studies, though. You'll always remember what it was like to have her, for one night, at your mercy.

You'll always remember what it was like to have her be yours.

For now, though, you'll take your time examining the rest of her. After all, rushed studies breed shoddy results—and she's worth only the best.


End file.
